


Sky's Still Blue

by almeida4eva



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV), Jaime/Brienne - Fandom
Genre: ASoIaF, F/M, GRRM, Game of Thrones - Freeform, J/B - Freeform, J/B Shuffled Challenge, JB Love, Jaime/Brienne - Freeform, a song of ice and fire - Freeform, first fic, otp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-30
Updated: 2013-10-30
Packaged: 2017-12-30 23:20:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1024588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/almeida4eva/pseuds/almeida4eva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My contribution to the J/B Shuffled Challenge! and my first J/B fic - please don't be too harsh! ;P</p><p>I'm not really sure it has much story or purpose....and i tend to ramble.... :S :S Oh well...here goes nothing....</p><p>The song is Sky's Still Blue by Andrew Belle (lyrics at the end)<br/>vid here http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=K6sMuNuBlQo</p><p>All mistakes are mine! I own nothing (sadly).</p><p>if anyone recognizes anything i promise i did not steal it...my head is so full of ASOIAF and GoT and GRRM and FanFics that it may explode so anything similar to anyone else's work is unintentional!!!</p><p>MUCH LOVE PEEPS!!! -X-</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sky's Still Blue

Jaime Lannister was surrounded by blackness.

 

 _No_ he thought, _this is not blackness it is_ bleakness.

 

He was enveloped in stark, harsh emptiness. Had he died on the Wall? – the last great battle had fallen upon them during the long night…the maesters were certain that it was to end soon and he could do nothing but pray to the Gods that they were right. Pray and Fight. They were his only options, and so he had prayed with every breath in his body, _all the time,_ subconsciously willing the Gods to hear him. It did not come easy to a man such as himself…Kingslayer…Oathbreaker…Man without Honour… but he tried – _for her._

 

Fighting had come easier. It was substantial and direct and the results were instantaneous. Thrust. Parry. Dodge. Run. Hack. Over and over and over again. These were things that had been born and bred into his very soul….made his heart sing and his blood burn. He had endured countless cuts, scrapes, scars and slashes – but he had handed out more deathly blows than most of the men (and one rather large woman) on the Wall and so far that had been enough to keep him and _her_ alive. Was he still alive? 

 

The fighting was tangible and real... this blackness did not sit well with him, not at all… 

 

_‘Jaime’_

He spun around at the sound of her voice. Nothingness greeted him. His eyes strained to see _something_ through the dark haze around him; to hear her again.

 

‘Wench?’ His voice was raw and cracked to pieces on his lips, he cleared his throat and tried again, ‘Wench!’

 

 _‘Jaime’_  

 

Again he whirled in the darkness – where was she!? He looked everywhere he could, seeing nothing in the abyss that stretched out before him.

 

_‘Jaime’_

Gods! He truly had gone crazy! But then…a glimpse… _something_ high above him, a glint – there one minute and gone the next. He fixed his gaze to the spot. Again it appeared, a flash of… Blue. His breath rushed out of his lungs in one heavy gush. Blue – Sapphire Blue – that was all he needed. The light ebbed and swelled – each time it became stronger, bluer, purer until it was blinding; it set the bleakness alight with a blue flame. Filling the space light a bright blue mid-summer’s day.

 

*********************

 

Jaime groaned into consciousness. Pain ripped through his abdomen, spiking out towards his chest. The White Walker – he remembered – had skewered him with a spear. It hadn’t been too bad a wound. At least he hadn’t thought it was very bad. Nothing compared to his maiming surely.

 

‘Jaime?’

 

This time it was real…really real – only the Wench could sound heart-broken and pissed and concerned all at the same time. Wait, _heart-broken_ , no, that couldn’t be right. The Wench was strong and stubborn and fierce. But she was also gentle and soft…

 

‘Urgh!’ Another stab of pain… he forced his eyes open. The room was gloomy, just a small candle flickering in the corner of the room. He strained his eyes to focus – anything was better than the void he had been floating in before.

 

‘Do not move Ser. You are not well.’ She sounded indignant – that was nothing new; comforting even.

 

‘Is it over? Is the sky still blue?’ His throat felt like sandpaper as he croaked out the words.

 

Brienne shuffled around in a dark corner, then strode over to where he was lying on a pallet on the dusty, cold floor. Crouching she produced a cup of water and bought it to his lips, helping him to gulp down a few mouthfuls without spilling too much down his tunic. The water was stale and stagnant but it felt heavenly as it cleared away some of the cobwebs from his mind.

 

‘I’d have preferred wine.’ Jaime spluttered.

 

‘Yes.’ She said ignoring his jest as she often did, ‘It is over.’ She answered in a relieved exhale. He knew that she referred to more than just the battle. The long night had finally passed, they had survived. ‘The sun rose not two days ago. It was _magnificent_.’ She breathed the words. Brienne had never sounded more her age than in that moment – full of awe and wonder.

 

Jaime pulled himself into a sitting position, leaning his back against the stone wall, taking in the Wench for the first time since awakening as she settled next to him on the ground. She appeared to be well, no blood stained bandages or splints on her arms or legs, and certainly no new wounds to her face. She huffed and grunted a little and his made himself comfortable – or as comfortable as he was likely to get – wincing all the while.

 

‘I’ll not die from sitting up straighter Wench, do not concern yourself.’

 

Her eyes – those blue eyes – flared at him then. Something had snapped within her. ‘You very nearly did! And I do not concern myself! It is you – you _demand_ that I concern myself when you burden me with the truth of your lies.’ She exhaled and slumped further back into the wall. ‘Must I know every part of you?’

 

Brienne had taken his off-hand remark the wrong way – she did not have much experience with teasing. But her words had cut him deeper than he thought, stung more than the weeping wound on his stomach.

 

‘Gods Wench! Do not overreact, I was just teasing – and yes, I _do_ demand that you know every inch of me! If you are to be my conscience and moral compass then you needs must know it all, good and bad. Besides you do not know _all_ of me, not yet.’

 

Jaime was feeling petulant by this point. Stupid bloody Wench, haranguing him – he could not help it if her presence was like truth syrup to him, spilling his deepest, darkest secrets whilst she remained a dull mute for the entirety of their travels. At her questioning gaze he continued.

 

‘You do not know me as a big brother,’ he explained. ‘You do not know me as a son, a nephew, a father…’ he added and extra lilt to his voice, staring straight into her un-compromising sapphire blue eyes, ‘…you do not know me as a lover.’

 

Even in the dim light he could see the ruby blush stain her cheeks and neck. He could swear he heard her cursing under her breath. She averted her eyes as her teeth worried her bottom lip, her tongue darting out to sooth it afterwards. Her long neck was exposed by her loose tunic and his eyes traced the faint lines that marred her creamy neck. _Fucking Stoneheart._

 

‘I could never know you thus.’ It was no more than a whisper, her words murmured in the hope that he would not hear the utter disappointment in them. But of course he did.

 

Did she want to know him like that? There had been a time when a thought of him being _with_ the Wench is such a way would have roiled his stomach; as it was he was having stirrings just south of his stomach, and they were most welcome. Jaime smiled then, a true smile that lit his eyes but the Wench would still not meet his gaze. ‘Look at me.’ He kept his voice low and gentle, if he spooked her she would flee and he was in no state to go running after her – though he would probably try!

 

‘Look at me!’ He insisted, his tone stronger but no louder.

 

Slowly Brienne turned her eyes back to him, when they met his golden green ones they crackled electric blue. He felt a tug, deep within his core; his very bones. Did she know what her eyes did to him? – was that why she was always shuttering them from him, lest he take her in the middle of a crowded tavern because she merely looked at him!

 

‘My Lady, you may know me any way you wish, you need only ask.’ He winked affectionately, a small smile tugged at Brienne’s lips. ‘I would know you better… if you would let me.’ He whispered. To his surprise she did not flinch at his words, just set her jaw and deepened her gaze, searching for something within his eyes.

 

His resolve crumpled and this time it was he who turned away. Why was he always such a fool?

 

‘All my life men have demeaned and chastised me,’ her voice was listless and demure, but still he stayed focused on the flickering candle rather than the gangly girl beside him. ‘They have laughed at me and hurt me,’ Brienne’s voice trembled with emotion – Gods he was going to make her cry! Him and his big bloody mouth, after all they had been through together – survived together – and he has to go and upset her! ‘But none of them…’ she continued, ‘…none of them have _ever_ looked at me the way you do. You look at me as though I should not exist! As though I am an abomination; and though I know that I will never be even close to pretty… I thought… I thought that perhaps you could see past that by now, as my friend…’ She paused to take a ragged breath.

 

‘No, no, no, no, no.’ Jaime could hold his tongue no longer, she had taken his cowardice for disinterest, his head snapped back to face her, taking her in – all of her. Slow tears traced their way down her cheeks – one smooth and one ruined, her chest heaved as she drew rapid breaths of air, trying to calm her emotions and her hands were tangled in her lap, long, slim fingers twisting around one another.

 

‘Must I always be misunderstood by you Wench?’ Jaime reached out with his good hand and ghosted it along her ruined cheek, wiping away the tears as he went. His stump came to rest in her lap, her fingers instinctively wrapped around it, absently stroking patterns across the scarred flesh. He tried to ignore the sudden rush of excitement that led straight to his cock. ‘I look at you as though you are an impossibility because you _are_! It should not be possible to be so noble in a world gone to shit, or to have values such as yours when you have endured nothing but ridicule and revulsion.’ The awe in his voice was true and pure and caused fresh tears to fall from Brienne’s crystal clear eyes. ‘It should not be possible for you to stand beside a crippled, dishonoured old man as the world crumbles and the clouds burn and yet, still _love_ him. But you do. And I am forever indebted to you because of it.’

 

Brienne gasped as his words finally registered. She could not dispute his words – though she wanted to. His hand slipped behind her ear and came to rest at the back of her head, gentle pressure caused her to lean into him. Jaime’s lips traced the outline of hers, not daring to do more until he knew she wanted it too. They remained, face to face, lips to lips, drowning in one another’s gaze… until Brienne wet her dry, chapped lips – her tongue inadvertently brushed against Jaime’s soft mouth causing him to moan out loud.

 

Brienne jerked back stunned. Jaime’s emerald eyes were wild, his hand tightened in the hair at the nape of her neck and he dragged her back to him. His smooth lips assaulted hers, uninhibited and rough. Brienne did her best to keep up with Jaime’s kisses as his tongue swept into her mouth – she had never known that another person could taste so good as she sighed and moaned, overcome with the sensation. She bought a hand up to fist in his luscious hair, holding him close, willing him impossibly closer; travelling it across his strong shoulders and muscled chest. Brienne rose to her knees, leaning into him more fully, thanking the Seven that their room was in an almost abandoned part of the Wall.

 

‘Gods!’ Jaime expelled when they finally parted for air. Looking up into Brienne’s eyes he saw that her pupils were blown and that her cheeks were flushed scarlet, her chest heaved as she worked to level her breathing once more. She was taller than him – her on her knees and him propped against the wall – he found that he quite loved the view and the motion of her meagre breasts was more of a distraction than he could bear. He began kissing and nipping and licking his way down her slender neck, across her collar bones to the dip at the base of her throat and then further down still, to the tops of her breasts, pulling her tunic aside as he went, entranced by every new inch of skin revealed to him. Brienne was exposed and trusting in his arms, her hands ran all over him, driving him insane. He could feel her fumbling with the bottom of his tunic, tugging to get it free and remove it from his body.

 

‘Argh!’ Brienne leaned away looking troubled as Jaime huffed, clearly in pain.

 

‘Sorry.’ She mumbled, shifting her hips so that she came to rest on Jaime’s thighs… apparently she had straddled him at some point during their heated kissing session.

 

‘Fuck Brienne, don’t ever be sorry for that!’ He pressed a fierce kiss to her mouth to reassure her that he was fine and because well, quite frankly, he could not stop himself from kissing her again – they were going to be in _big_ trouble when they were in public again - how would he stop himself from touching her all the time? He had no idea!?

‘It’s just that I’m mortally wounded and you seem intent on putting me in an early grave.’ His smirk was playful and light, ‘And though it would well be worth death to take you here and now –‘ Brienne blushed, ever the maiden, ‘- I’m afraid I would not do you or myself justice.’

 

Brienne made a move to get off of him but he held her tight against him. ‘Hey! Just because we cannot do _everything_ right now we _can_ do other things...’ He sighed contentedly, he never knew he could truly be happy like this. Brienne’s fingers raked through his hair, a calming sensation as he nuzzled his face into her neck. ‘…because the sky is still blue. And I was _not_ done kissing you!’

 

<End> 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it wasn't too bad!!!! i absolutely adore the JxB fandom so wanted to contribute something little! <3
> 
> Comments and feedback would be wonderful! :)
> 
> MUCH LOVE TO Y'ALL! -X-
> 
> lyrics:-
> 
> ANDREW BELLE 
> 
> "Sky's Still Blue"
> 
> Your heart is a city  
> Your eyes are a fixture  
> The mind tells a story  
> With ten thousand pictures  
> We stumble upon it  
> Fell through the ceiling tiles
> 
> We drew up a landscape  
> We climbed down a ladder  
> Carved out a memory  
> To follow the pattern  
> And now on a clear glass wall  
> I can see my faith  
> You know it's never too late
> 
> Oh, if you're hearing this  
> I must have made it through  
> Oh, when the clouds are burned  
> Open up my window  
> I see the sky's still blue
> 
> A vision is a portrait  
> A palate of colours  
> We swim in an ocean  
> With blindfolded lovers  
> And now that I've found my side  
> Oh, I finally realize that it was there the whole time
> 
> Oh, if you're hearing this  
> I must have made it through  
> Oh, when the clouds are burned  
> Open up my window  
> I see the sky's still blue
> 
> I see that the sky is still blue
> 
> Oh, if you're hearing this  
> I must have made it through  
> Oh, when the clouds are burned  
> Open up my window  
> I see the sky's still blue
> 
> Oh, if you're hearing this  
> I must have made it through  
> Oh, if you're hearing this  
> I see the sky's still blue


End file.
